


If You're Wondering How He Eats...

by Paycheckgurl



Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Bad Cooking, Cooking, Fire, Food, Gen, Jonah eats like a college kid...because he is one, Multi-Era, gross food experiments, headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 10:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11872311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paycheckgurl/pseuds/Paycheckgurl
Summary: Cooking with the Satellite of Love crew throughout the years.





	If You're Wondering How He Eats...

**Author's Note:**

> Is it technically ignoring the theme song if I'm not actually explaining where they got the food from in the first place?

**Joel**

Let it never be said that Joel Robinson could not cook. Just that maybe he shouldn’t. He wasn’t a bad cook by any traditional means, he could pull off any Middle America stable with ease. Unfortunately ease at Middle American stables usually meant boring, boring, mind numbing blandness.

“Mash potatoes again…Joooeeellllll,” whined Crow.

Tom Servo simply picked at the mushy white, recently dehydrated substance with his fork, moved it around, and carefully avoided actually bringing it to his mouth. While his arms didn’t really work (except for when they did), playing with his food seemed to be an avoidance tactic.

“You guys can’t not eat,” said Joel. “I didn’t redesign your internal fuel systems to run partially on food energy conversion so you could not eat.”

“Well then maybe you should stop wasting the taste buds you built us on the same thing over and over again,” said Crow defiantly.

“Uh nnnhhh,” Servo verbalized as his stabbing attempts at the potatoes intensified.

“No, eat up!” said Gypsy. She quickly threw away all table manners and launched her entire oversized head into the plate, finishing with the speed (and disgusting messiness) of a competitive eater.

“Gross!” complained Crow.

“You always take Joel’s side; you big suck up!” complained Servo.

“Remember what happened last time Joel got creative with his cooking? Back when he did first install out taste buds?”

Crows eyes shifted, the memory of the horror dawning. A creative Joel in the kitchen meant Fruit Loops on things a Fruit Loop was never supposed to grace. It meant multilayered birds that made the Turducken look tame and reasonable. It meant mild explosions because he was running experiments on how to best screw up a soufflé for comic effect. It meant recreating those Jell-O monstrosities from the 70s with things that should never ever be in Jell-O. It meant the cake made entirely out of collard greens. And Crow was not going to relive the horror that was the cake made entirely out of collard greens.

“Delicious Joel, so delicious!” he said.

Mash potato dripped around Servo’s beak and he let out a quick succession of “yums” “mmmmm” and “so goods”.

Joel simply hung his head a bit. At least Cambot never gave him any trouble about his cooking (if only because Cambot was the only one he hadn’t programmed with the ability to eat).

 

**Mike**

The bots had to admit that when it came down solely to how the food tasted, Mike was a pretty good cook. He was creative with food, but not Joel creative, so they could actually stand to eat things when he tried something new. He liked his hot sauce BOLD, and was maybe a bit overly fond of his rice and baccon, but otherwise he was pretty good at cooking with what he had on hand. Except for when his clumsiness got the better of him. Which also happened a lot.

Sometimes it was dumb things like dropping the eggs or mixing up the baking soda and baking powder (after That One Incident, he’d been banned from using both substances without supervision). Other times it was dumb things like starting a kitchen fire. Or starting another kitchen fire. Or starting a kitchen fire that was also a grease fire and spread outside of the kitchen.

Around the fifth kitchen fire or so Gypsy had quietly learned to cook and took over except for on special occasions, Mike only really being allowed to play sous chef otherwise. He had complained at first once he realized Gypsy’s ploy, but stopped short once everyone realized the big purple bot was really talented in the kitchen. 

When the crew landed back on Earth, after Gypsy had found a place in New York, and as Mike had just finished moving into his place in Minneapolis, Tom, Crow, and Cambot worked together to push him to the other side of the apartment. With force.

“Don’t try to move, Nelson,” said Crow.

“Guys what is this?” asked Mike. “Is this about the apartment? If you didn’t like the place you should have said so when we were touring it!”

“Oh no we love it,” said Servo. “We just need to need remind you that Gypsy isn’t living with us.”

“Yeah…and?”

“That Gypsy isn’t living with us and can’t cook for us.”                                  

“Yeah and?”

“GET A WORKING SMOKE DETECTOR, NELSON!” shouted Servo.

A pan containing a quesadilla on fire burned on the kitchen stove, which Crow was now trying to put out, as Tom and Cambot tried to keep Mike from making the problem worse.

 

**Jonah**

“I thought you said you were making dinner,” said Servo flatly.

He, Crow, and Gypsy were gathered around in the redesigned satellite’s dining eating area.

Jonah frowned a bit, as he tried to figure out just what the bot was hemming and hawing about.

“I did,” he said gesturing to the meal in front of them. “See, dinner.”

Crow rolled his eyes back, conveying a certain type of annoyance that could only truly be described as “absolutely and completely done with this bullshit.”

“No,” said Crow. “Adding water to 99 cent packs of Cup Noodles is not dinner.”

Jonah shrugged. “Speak for yourself. At Gizmonic I live on this stuff. It’s way better than the rehydration packets I get when I’m asteroid jockeying.”

He excitedly took a bite of his ramen.

“This is how modern academia is failing American students,” said Servo.

“Can’t you try real cooking?” asked Crow. “You’re science-y. Cooking’s just like food science, right?”

“I can do a mean turkey for Thanksgiving but it’s so time consuming! I can do a brownie in a mug though and easy mac is always great. I can really make a microwave sing.”  

Gypsy let out an exasperated sigh of her own, muttering out, “I was looking forward to ditching dinner duty.”  

It wasn’t until a month later that Jonah realized just how many food-based inventions the bots had been suggesting. When he finally called the them on it Tom simply said “we’re deprograming you.”

“Also we hid the microwave,” said Gypsy.

“I threw the all the ramen out into space,” said Crow. “While I realize now that helps with what we’re trying to do here, I actually just did that because I was bored.”

Gypsy dropped a cookbook from her mouth. The word “oven” had been underlined in red pen repeatedly throughout.


End file.
